


Blessed are the Peacemakers

by BettyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Mutual Pining, Opposites Attract, Pining, Pining Sam Winchester, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Build, Soulmates, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BettyWinchester/pseuds/BettyWinchester
Summary: Betty Rivera is thrust into the hunter life when her father is kidnapped. Strangely, she begins to develop unexplainable powers that she utilizes to help those she encounters. As she continues on her mission, Betty begins to realize that she might be apart of something much larger than herself. And she's afraid of what exactly it might be.
Relationships: Castiel (Supernatural) & Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. Girl on a Mission

Brunette hair was slicked back by a hand, and brown eyes glanced down at the fake FBI badge in her hands, stuffing it into her pocket. Taking in a steadying breath, the young woman, no older than 20, straightened her back and brought a hand up to the door of a quaint suburban house. Knocking twice, she lowered her hand when the sound of fast, small feet came running toward the door. The door opened, the woman’s eyebrows furrowed when met with a seemingly empty house.

“Hello.” Looking down, she met the blue eyes of a redheaded five year old girl. The brunette’s mouth opened slightly as she peered into the house. Looking to the child again, she leaned down and rested her hands on her knees.

“Hey, sweetie. I’m Betty, what’s your name?” The little girl tugged at her pink dress.

“Audrey.” Betty smiled and glanced back into the house.

“Are your parents home?” Audrey shook her head in response, Betty bit her lip. “Great.” Audrey’s parents had been prime witnesses to whatever monster was terrorizing the town of Cape May, New Jersey. Their description of what they saw would’ve helped Betty narrow it down, but now here she was, three dead bodies and two missing witnesses. “Well, do you have any idea where they would be?” 

“The doggie took them.” The brunette’s smile fell. 

“Doggie?” Audrey nodded and grabbed Betty’s hand. Leading her inside, Audrey stopped short of the back door. It had been ripped off its hinges, claw marks ran across the wall toward the kitchen, and a trail of blood led back out of it. “Audrey,” the brunette began, kneeling to the girl’s eye level. “Tell me everything that happened.” 

Audrey’s retelling of the event left Betty in a dilemma. According to the young girl, her parents had hidden her in a kitchen cabinet when they heard something trying to break in, from there she had watched the events unfold. She had witnessed her parents get ripped to shreds and then dragged off to God knows where. Betty cursed herself for not getting to the family sooner, glancing at the child, she was at odds with herself on what to do. 

“Do you have any aunts or uncles?” Her question had received a blank stare in return, sighing, the brunette pulled out a lore book. Flipping through the pages, she stopped on what she believed the creature to be. A skinwalker, a being that can shapeshift into an animal, and can be killed by a silver weapon. Glancing at Audrey, Betty closed the book. “Audrey,” blue eyes met hers. “Don’t leave this motel room for anything or anyone, okay?” 

“Okay.” The brunette gave her a pitiful smile and ruffled her hair. Putting on a coat, she grabbed the keys to her car and reached for the door. “Where are you going?” She stopped and turned to find the younger girl looking at her with worried eyes. Betty reached a hand to her cheek and gave her a reassuring look. 

“I’ll be okay, Audrey.” Picking up the little girl, Betty laid her down on the motel bed and placed the bed covers over her. “Sleep. I’ll be back soon.” Resting two fingers on the little girl’s forehead, Audrey’s eyes began to close despite her not feeling tired before. Her hand grabbed onto Betty’s jacket.

“Come back.” Betty grabbed her hand and linked their pinkies together.

“I promise.” 

Betty had followed the trail of blood to the woods behind the house, there she found a cabin. Its lights were lit and she could see a figure pacing inside. Equipped with a silver blade, the brunette quietly neared the cabin. Peering into a window, Betty could see what looked like a golden retriever biting on a severed arm beside the mutilated bodies of Audrey’s parents. She ducked in disgust and choked back bile. Recollecting herself, she peered over the window again only to find the dog gone.

A growl made her head snap to the left, there the bloodied gold retriever stood with bared teeth. The brunette stood slowly, her hand holding her blade behind her back.

“Hey there, pupper.” The dog slowly neared her, in response, Betty backed away slowly. “Now, let’s not be rash.”

“Hunter.” It barked out.

“Well,” the brunette began, her back hit a tree making her stop in her tracks. “Since we’re done with introductions,” she revealed her blade to the dog and twirled it in her hand. “Let’s dance.” Taking a step forward, the brunette slashed at the dog. Her knife missed and barely grazed its skin. With a howl of pain, the dog jumped toward her attempting to bite her. Betty kicked the dog’s jaw, rendering it dazed, she took off toward a more wooded area and hid behind a tree.

“Come out!” It huffed, Betty could hear it sniffing out her scent. The brunette quickly hid behind another tree as it neared.

“So, you’re a lone wolf?” She asked, moving to a different tree. “Your kind usually hunts in packs. Were you too cool for that?” A growl made her eyes widen and she took off behind another tree.

“Shut up.” The brunette could tell it was on the other side of the tree, taking a deep breath, Betty realized there was nowhere else to run. “There you are.” A claw smacked the blade out of her hand and another scratched at her face. The skinwalker pushed her down with its weight and jumped onto her. Grabbing a stray, thick branch, Betty blocked its attempt to bite her.

“Ugh.” She groaned in disgust at the slobber that fell to her face. Struggling against the strong dog, moonlight hit her eye and she saw the silver blade a few feet away. Looking back to the skinwalker, Betty smashed her head into it and pushed it off. She tried to stand but her left ankle failed her. Dragging herself to the blade, the dog shook off its daze and growled. 

“You bitch!” It screamed, taking one last jump toward her. Betty grabbed the blade and turned in time to stab the skinwalker after it jumped on her. The dog began to whimper as it stared into her eyes, Betty sighed.

“Bad dog.” Silence filled the woods, the brunette pushed the corpse off of her and propped herself up on her arms. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. The scratch marks on her face faded away and her ankle healed itself, opening her eyes, she stood. 

Walking into the cabin, the brunette wrapped the bodies in the curtains she found. Carefully placing wood around the bodies, she glanced at the skinwalker and pulled her blade out of its stomach. She placed its body with those of Audrey’s parents, setting the fire, she watched it burn. “You may have died a monster, but you were born a human. And any human deserves to be put to rest.” Closing her eyes, Betty sighed and looked toward the moon.

Returning to the motel room, the brunette found Audrey sitting beside the door.

“Audrey?” The redheaded girl looked toward her and jumped into her bloodied arms.

“Betty, you’re back!” Betty hesitantly hugged her back a bit unsure of what was happening. “You took so long, I thought the doggie got you.” The little girl spoke through sobs, Betty rubbed her back in response and shushed her.

“It’s okay, Audrey. I’m okay.” Pulling away from the hug, Betty questioned the girl once more. “Do you have anyone you can stay with, Audrey?” The little girl shook her head, Betty looked to the floor in thought. She was unsure what to do. She couldn’t leave the girl alone, but she also couldn’t take her with her. The police in the town seemed to be outdated and of no help, so that wasn’t an option. Suddenly, a person came to Betty’s mind and she smiled at the girl. “How do you feel about Illinois?” Audrey tilted her head at her.

Pulling up to a nice house, Betty exited her car and opened the back door. Audrey took her hand and jumped onto the sidewalk, her blue eyes took in the house. An older woman walked toward them as Betty took Audrey’s small suitcase out of the car’s trunk and set it on the ground beside them. Betty smiled at the older woman and hugged her.

“Officer Cortez.” She greeted pulling away from the hug, the older woman chuckled in response.

“Betty, it’s so good to see you.” Her eyes landed on Audrey, who grabbed onto Betty’s pants. “Is this Audrey?” The brunette nodded before noticing the young girl's discomfort. Kneeling down, she rested a comforting hand on the young girl’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Audrey?” Audrey gripped her shirt and her eyes began to tear up.

“I want to go with you.” Betty was caught off-guard by her request, she motioned to Officer Cortez to give them a moment. The older woman nodded and walked back to the house’s front door.

“Audrey,” she began, turning back to face her. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come with me.” The little girl looked down and started to sob. The brunette’s eyes widened, completely unprepared for this reaction. “Woah, hey, Audrey.” She frantically rubbed her shoulders and pulled her into a hug.

“I don’t want to lose you too!” She yelled through choked sobs, Betty sighed, stroking the girl’s hair.

“You won’t. Look,” pulling away from the hug, Betty pulled a phone out of her pocket. “This phone has my number on it. Everyday, call me before you go to bed.” She placed the phone into the girl’s small hands. “I’ll always answer.” The redhead’s sobs slowed to a stop, she jumped to hug Betty. 

“Promise?” Betty hugged her back.

“Promise.” Audrey pulled away from the hug with a smile on her face. “Now, be good for Ms. Cortez.” The little girl nodded, grabbing hold of her small suitcase and taking off toward the house. The brunette leaned against her car, waving as Ms. Cortez and Audrey entered the house. She stood there for a while before getting into her car and starting it up. With one last look at the house, she smiled and then drove away.

  
  



	2. Something Wicked

The hospital was quiet, a blonde nurse walked down an empty hallway and sighed at the clipboard in her hand. A knock at the hallway window made her jump and fumble with her papers, she met brown eyes and sighed in relief.

“Hannah,” Betty began in a hushed voice. “Window, please.” The nurse shook her head and unlocked the window. The brunette climbed in, pulling the hood of her jacket down, she met Hannah’s brown eyes. 

“Damn it, Betty. You scared the daylights out of me.” The brunette shrugged in response with a goofy smile. "You're really stretching your luck, and mine!" Hannah whisper-yelled, closing the window behind Betty. "I could lose my job for this."

“Had to get your attention somehow.” Hannah shook her head and motioned for Betty to follow her back up the hallway.

“You really haven’t changed since college.” Betty stifled a chuckle, the blonde shot her a glare before the look softened. “I still can’t believe you dropped out. You were a genius, on track to graduate at 20, youngest person to enter medical school. What happened?” The brunette’s smile faded, remembering the times she had shadowed the nurse in hopes of becoming a doctor.

“You want the long version, or the short version?” The blonde glanced at the nearing child’s ward. 

“Short version.” She responded, reaching for the door’s handle. The brunette looked into the room's window. The machines were the only things keeping the children alive, they were pale and sickly. And it hurt Betty’s heart to see them this way.

“My dad is missing.” Their eyes met, Hannah swallowed before looking away. There was always something about Betty’s eyes, like she could read you with a simple glance. It made Hannah uncomfortable in her skin, made her want to escape her gaze. “And I have to find him.” The blonde looked to the floor. 

“Do you know how to help them?” She asked with sorrowful eyes, Betty sighed and looked at her hands.

“I do.” Her eyes met Hannah’s and gave her a reassuring smile. Hannah smiled in return and held the door open for the brunette. 

“I have to do my rounds. I’ll be quick and come back to let you out.” Betty nodded stepping into the room, the blonde closed the door behind her and took off down the hallway. The brunette bit the inside of her cheek and walked toward the closest bed. 

Sitting down, she looked at the young boy. Brushing his hair away from his eyes, the brunette settled her hand onto the boy’s cold cheek. Breathing in deeply, she closed her eyes and concentrated. A bluish light came from the palm of her hand, the light sunk into his skin, bringing color back to his face, and the boy began to stir. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at Betty through dazed eyes.

“Sleep.” His eyes fell closed once more. The brunette adjusted his covers and stood, moving toward the next bed. Leaning over another little boy, she rested her hand on his forehead and closed her eyes in concentration. As the blue light began to grow, her concentration was broken by the door being kicked open.

“Step away from the kid.” The brunette opened her eyes, sighing as she raised her hands up slowly. “Turn around.” Betty slowly turned to find two guns pointing at her, the two men kept their guns trained on her as the shorter of the two walked toward her. “Drop your hood.” He gestured with his gun, the brunette hesitated causing him to move the gun closer.

“Woah!” Betty exclaimed, bumping into a medical tray and causing its tools to fall. She gave a nervous chuckle. “Let’s not get trigger happy. We are in a hospital.” The taller of the two lowered his gun in response to her voice.

“Dean,” he began, Dean glanced at his partner. “She’s not the Shtriga.” The shorter man’s green eyes met hers, he furrowed his brows and pursed his lips.

“They’re shifters, Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. “Could be taking the form of a pretty little lady.” Now Betty furrowed her eyebrows in response, signaling to Dean, she reached and lowered her hood. Green eyes narrowed and the gun lowered.

“I’m Betty,” she licked her lips with nervousness. “Betty-”

“Rivera.” Sam answered, she tilted her head in confusion. “Uh, we’re Sam and Dean Winchester. We met someone who you saved. In Chicago, a little girl living with Officer Alexandra Cortez.” Betty’s eyes widened.

“Audrey.” Dean put his gun away as Betty gave the correct name. “You’re hunters. Did something happen in Chicago? Is Audrey okay?” Sam nodded and set comforting hands onto her shoulders. Before he could verbally confirm Audrey’s safety, the squeak of halting steps made all three look to the door.

“Betty, is everything okay? I heard something-” Hannah stopped, her eyes narrowed at the brothers. “Agents?” 

“So,” Sam began taking a seat on a couch inside the children’s ward. “Sorry for attacking you back there.” Betty glanced at him before looking back at the children she was currently healing. 

“Yeah, thought you were the monster finishing the job.” Dean added, sitting beside his brother and cracking his hands. The brunette didn’t respond and instead closed her eyes. Concentrating, the light began to shine. “So, apology accepted?” The blue light broke along with Betty’s concentration, she looked up in frustration. Hannah, who stood at the ward’s door, glanced from Dean to Betty while crossing her arms.

“Listen, guys,” she began, looking toward them. “We can talk later, right now, I need to focus on healing these kids.” Dean’s eyebrows jumped up at her frustrated tone, Hannah cringed and took a sidestep into the hallway. Betty turned back to the children and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath the blue light returned to her palms.

“I’m sorry, heal?” Furrowing her brows, Betty snapped her head in Dean’s direction and glared at him. The dirty blond man sunk in his seat, Sam cleared his throat as he looked away and elbowed his brother to quiet down. Betty straightened herself up and closed her eyes, a bluish light engulfed the room. The brothers watched in awe, Hannah peered into the room and exhaled while walking away. 

“Woah.” Sam exhaled as the light dimmed, Betty’s hand shot up to her head and her legs threatened to give up underneath her. Dean stood quickly seeing her wobble, but she put a hand up to stop him. Breathing in deeply she steadied herself and looked toward the healed children. 

“Are you a witch?” Looking up to Dean, blood dripped from the brunette’s nose as she chuckled. She brought a hand up to her nose and shook her head.

“To be completely honest,” she looked at the blood on her hand as it began to disappear. “I don’t know what I am.”

Betty found herself sitting at the coffee table of the brothers’ motel room, the two Winchester brothers sat across from her. Dean leaned back in his chair with a beer in his hand, Sam rested his elbows on the table. Everything about this scene screamed interrogation, the brunette awkwardly settled into her seat and sighed.

“Uh, Betty,” Sam began, her brown eyes met his hazel ones as she gave him her full attention. “What can you tell us about your powers?” Betty bit her lip and moved her chair closer to the table.

“Not much,” she began with a nervous chuckle. “My powers started a few months ago, when my dad disappeared.” She paused and swallowed. “When I started hunting.” Shaking her head, she looked to the floor. “It started small. My wounds from hunts would magically disappear, and then I started being able to heal other people. But,” Sighing, she looked to Sam. “It comes with some disadvantages.”

“Disadvantages?” Dean scoffed, Betty looked to him with furrowed brows. “Magical girl, you can heal yourself and others. To me that seems like a win.” Sam bit his lip at his brother's rudeness and motioned for Betty to ignore him. 

“Go on, Betty.” The brunette brought her eyes back to Sam and breathed in deeply.

“If I use too much power, I lose the ability to use my powers for weeks and sometimes I faint.” Her eyes looked to Dean. “So, not really much of a win. More like a double edged sword.” Dean cleared his throat, taking another sip from his beer and looking away. Sam looked around, seemingly arguing with himself.

“Betty,” he started, the brunette could sense his hesitation. “Do you know of a yellow-eyed demon?” Her brows furrowed at his question, Sam sighed and ran his tongue along his teeth. “This is going to sound crazy-” Betty chuckled.

“Please, we’re hunters.” She gave him a smile. “Crazy is our normal.” Sam returned her smile, Dean settled into his seat, prepared for his little brother to tell their story.

“My brother and I,” he began, motioning to Dean and taking the beer out of his hand. “We’re looking for our father too. And a yellow-eyed demon, who killed our mother.” The brunette nodded, Sam glanced at his brother wondering if he should continue. Dean shrugged, feeling as though it didn’t matter. “A few months ago, before I started hunting again, I started having psychic dreams, visions.” Her mouth slightly opened and her eyes looked down in thought. “Maybe-”

“Maybe we’re the same.” Their eyes met, both exhaled in relief and understanding. Sam smiled at her and nodded.

“Yeah, uh, of course, there’s a difference in our powers.” He continued. “Mine is mental and yours is physical.” Betty’s smile soon fell in curiosity.

“Do you, um, do you know where our powers are coming from?” Sam’s mouth opened and closed, unsure of how to answer. Dean cleared his throat, reminding the two that he was there.

“Listen, I’d hate to break up this Magic: The Gathering convention,” he began, picking up the beer Sam had taken from him. “But we have a, surely, angry Shtriga out there looking for more souls to eat.” Sam turned to his brother in anger, ready to yell at him, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Dean is right,” the brunette began. “The Shtriga is our number one priority right now.” Sam’s mood soured at this. Why wasn’t she as curious as he was? They were obviously connected in some way. “We can talk about it later.”

Outside, Hannah, covered in blood, sat in a car just a ways away from the motel room. She could see them through the window and bit her lip. Looking to her blood covered hands, she stared into a goblet of blood.

“Her powers have progressed.” A strange sound responded to her statement. “No, she’s met the Winchesters.” Looking back at them, she smiled sinisterly. “Everything is going according to plan.”

Hunting with people proved to be an interesting challenge for Betty. Sam was easy to get along with, they had common interests and sympathized with each other. Dean, however, was a different story. The older brother had a habit of calling Betty everything but her name, including but not limited to; Magical girl, Bug, and Saintess. He had a rather inexplicable preference for Bug. 

Dean was wary of Betty’s ability as a hunter. She had only been hunting for less than a year, it seemed reasonable for him to hesitate putting his life in her hands. But his low expectations were exceeded, Betty proved to be skillful and resourceful. She didn’t hesitate in her moves and had saved Sam’s life. And with her help, the case ended smoothly. 

“Bug,” Dean began closing the trunk of his car. Betty looked up from throwing her duffle bag into her car's backseat. “Sorry I doubted you.” He apologized, walking up to her. Biting the inside of his cheek, he looked into her eyes. “Would you come with us?” Sam walked to stand beside his older brother, the brunette blinked, she was caught off guard by the request. "We could use someone like you on our team."

“Please, Betty.” Sam begged, Betty swallowed her shock. Softly shaking her head, her eyes looked to the floor.

“I can’t.” She answered, Sam exhaled in disappointment. “I have to find my dad, I need to get answers.” Dean nodded in understanding.

“We understand,” he began, licking his lips. “Family always comes first.” He smiled meeting her gaze, she returned the smile half-heartedly. 

“Yeah,” closing her car door, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a notepad. The brothers watched her scribble something down before tearing the paper. Turning to them, she offered it to them. “If you ever need me, just call.” Dean took the paper and stared at the numbers. “Day or night, doesn't matter,” her eyes met Sam’s. “I’ll be there.” The taller brother smiled at her and nodded.

“Uh, here,” he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “Guess we had the same idea.” Sam stifled a chuckle, Betty beamed at him and reached for the paper. Dean watched their hands brush against each other as she took the paper.

“We’ll see each other again.” The brunette assured them while stuffing the paper into her pockets and reaching for her car door. “Maybe then we’ll have some answers.” Sam exhaled through his nose.

“Yeah, maybe.” The brothers watched her get into her car, she gave them a final wave before pulling out of the motel’s parking lot. 

“Mommy,” their attention was caught by Michael’s little brother, Asher. He had just returned home from the hospital. “I’m not lying. An angel saved me.” His mother hushed him as they entered the motel, Michael trailing behind the two. 

“Huh,” Dean scoffed, Sam glanced at him. “Angel, that’s fitting.” The taller brother chuckled as he shook his head. Dean furrowed his brows at him. “What’s so funny?” 

“Oh nothing,” he began reaching for the passenger seat door. “ Just the fact that you’re obviously smitten with Betty.” Dean gave him a look as he rounded to the driver’s side. 

“Smitten?” He repeated, the two entered the car. Sam buckled his seatbelt, while Dean stared out with a confused look in his eyes. “As if, Sammy.” He countered putting the car in reverse. “I saw the goo goo eyes you were making at her. You’re the one that’s smitten.” He made air quotes around the word and shook his head. Sam cleared his throat, fighting off the heat flushing his cheeks, and opened his dad’s journal.

“Whatever, Dean.”


	3. New Fangs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad title, I know. Don't roast me.

Betty stepped out of her car, her hands straightening out her suit jacket. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the Newport police station hoping to speak with the Sheriff. Opening the doors, she was met with a seemingly empty station, her eyebrows furrowed at this. The small town had recently found a giant stash of bloodless bodies dumped by a river, so why was the station so barren? 

Peering around the station, her hand found itself on the gun attached to her belt. The sound of someone clearing their throat caused her to jump, turning, Betty met the eyes of a male officer. The Sheriff. He raised an eyebrow at her and glanced at her hand on her gun, Betty followed his gaze and let out a nervous chuckle when her eyes met his again. 

“Sheriff Kent?” The man crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. 

“Yes?” His voice was sharp and almost sarcastic. Betty fumbled around, searching for her fake FBI badge. Raising it up, Betty cleared her throat nervously.

“Agent Scott,” Before Kent could look at her badge more closely, she hid it back into her pocket. “The bureau sent me to investigate the bodies dumped by the Maiford river as a possible serial.” Betty swallowed her nervousness, Kent internally chuckled at her strange demeanor. His hand motioned for her to follow.

“Bodies are in the morgue, down the hall.” He pointed down a very dull hallway, Betty looked at the metal door with the word ‘morgue’ written in all caps. Looking as empty as the rest of the station. Her stare was broken when she noticed Kent walking the opposite way.

“Are you sure I can go in there alone?” She asked, pointing a thumb to the door, Kent looked at her from over his shoulder. He sighed and fully turned to her.

“I’m gonna be real honest with you, Agent Scott.” Her eyebrows rose in concern, Kent stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You’re not going to like what you see in there. Hell, nobody working here could stomach it, they had to take the day off.” Betty searched his eyes, hoping to find some sort of look, something to tell her that he was messing with her. But she found nothing. Biting her lip, she sighed and shook her head.

“I think I’ll be fine.” She was lying through her teeth, but she had to keep up her ruse. Betty hated the lying, not just because she was bad at it, but because it always landed her in these less than desirable situations. Steadying herself, she straightened up and walked down the hall.

She kept her eyes to the ground as the metal door closed behind her. She argued with herself. Dead bodies, no one likes seeing dead bodies, especially Betty. Even just thinking of them made vomit come up her throat. Taking a deep breath, she rocked on her feet unable to look up. She let out a sound of frustration, her head wouldn’t move. 

“Gotta do this, Betty.” She told herself, letting out the air from her lungs. “You can do this.” Her eyes closed and she thought of her father. Her eyes open and her eyebrows furrow. “You have to do it.” Forcing her head up, she was met with multiple bodies, each completely mangled. Her hand shot up to her mouth and she frantically searched for a garbage can. 

Since becoming a hunter, Betty had seen lots of things. Terrible things. But this, this took the cake. The bodies were mangled beyond recognition, yet there was no blood to speak of. It was clear that whatever monster had done this didn’t want anyone to know who these people were or had been. 

Betty emptied the contents of her stomach into a small trash can. She sighed when it was finally over, when she felt that she could finally handle it. Setting the can down, the brunette straightened up and exhaled in preparation to examine the bodies. She really needed to stop overestimating herself. 

Putting on a pair of stray gloves, she neared one of the bodies with caution. No blood, limbs ripped not cut. Betty neared what she assumed to be the neck of one of the victims, using her fingers to move it, she spotted a bite. Teeth marks that were deep. The brunette sighed.

She lay on her motel bed, looking into one of her father’s lorebooks. Vampires, not the first one she had encountered and definitely not the last. She was convinced that it was a nest. Turning to lay on her stomach, her body hit the remote. The TV flickered on, the music of the local news channel rang through her ears. 

“Today, the daughter of Pastor Kilter, Melissa Kilter, was reported missing.” Looking to the TV, Betty rose to a seated position and neared the television. Melissa was just a teenager, just a kid, a kid in the hands of monsters. Betty looked at her phone. She could call the Winchesters for help, but who knows where they were, they could be days away from Rhode Island. But besides that, the brunette didn’t know where to start. 

Well, there was one place.

A knock at the door called the attention of the grieving Kilter family, Pastor Kilter rose from his place on the couch. He opened the door, his aged blue eyes met young brown ones. Betty gave him a pitiful smile.

“Pastor Kilter?” The man was shorter than her, basically the poster image of a man of God. He nodded, his blue eyes tearful and filled with concern. “I’m Agent Scott, I’m looking into the disappearance of your daughter, Melissa.” His eyes widened at her and he called out to his family.

“Gianna, our prayers have been answered!” He cheered, the brunette’s eyebrows furrowed at his statement. A cheery, older woman quickly made her way to the door and grabbed onto Betty’s hands. 

“Bless you!” She exclaimed, her eyes wrinkled as she smiled. Betty, not knowing what to do, smiled awkwardly in return. The older woman led her to the living room, across from her sat a man around her age who was nose deep in a testbook. 

“We’ve been praying for God to send us a warrior of justice,” Pastor Kilter began sitting beside the man, Gianna sat beside her and kept her hands in her grasp. “And here you are!” Betty gave them a nervous smile, she slowly sneaked her hands out of Gianna’s grip.

“Uh, well, I’m only human.”

“So were the prophets.” The pastor shot back, the man beside him glanced up at Betty. Her eyes met his blue ones, he shot her a pitiful look before returning to his testbook. 

“I guess,” she swallowed the urge to run out of the house and shook her head. “Um, could you let me take a look at Melissa’s room? It could tell me where she last was.” Gianna nodded quickly and shot from her seat. She led her up the stairs to a closed door with sparkly letters that spelled out Melissa’s name.

“Bring our baby home, warrior.” Betty bit back her discomfort at the word and gave Gianna a reassuring smile. The brunette watched the older woman walk back to the living room, when she was out of sight, she opened the door. 

Despite the sparkly and colorful lettering on her door, Melissa’s room was dark and bleak. Posters of rock and heavy metal stars were plastered on every inch of her wall, an upside down cross sent a shiver up Betty’s spine. A rebellious teenager. Seeing it made the brunette fear the thought of Audrey as a teen. 

“You’re thinking that she was a troublemaker.” Betty turned to find the young man that had been buried in his textbook. He leaned across the doorframe and sighed. “Well, she was. Melissa terrorized our parents with talk of heresy, blasphemy, and witchcraft.” He looked to the floor. “She was a nightmare,” he chuckled before closing his eyes. “Please, find her.” Betty nodded a silent promise, turning to Melissa’s desk.

“Can you tell me where Melissa was on the night of her disappearance?” Her hand shuffled through a pile of papers, the man sighed and looked up in thought.

“I’m not sure, but she and her friends have been hanging around the abandoned milk factory.” The brunette stopped her shuffling when she spotted a black book underneath the scattered papers. Squinting, she picked it up. There was no title on it, no cover at all, it was just black. She opened it and sighed at what she found. Witchcraft lore. Biting her lip, she looked to the ground. Maybe Melissa’s disappearance had nothing to do with vampires. Maybe there weren’t any vampires to begin with, just stupid teenagers getting involved in things they shouldn’t. Her eyes landed on a picture of Melissa with four other teens, each wearing a matching necklace.

“Could you tell me where that factory is?” 

The night was cold, a dark presence loomed over the factory. Betty stood at the trunk of her car, her hair in a ponytail as she loaded bullets into a gun. Looking to the factory, a cold breeze blew strands of her hair and she sighed. She reached for her phone, well, shuffled through a box of phones for her personal one. Flipping it open, she punched a few numbers in and pressed it to her ear. She made note of the time, 7 pm.

“Betty?” Sam’s voice caught her off guard, she hadn’t expected him to answer so quickly.

“Sam,” she began slamming her trunk closed. “I, uh, I think I’ve found a vamp nest.” Shuffling on the other side of the phone masked the brothers bickering.

“Give me that.” It was Dean, a little out of breath from wrestling the phone from his brother’s hand. “Okay, Bug, you said vamp nest?” She instinctively nodded, pressing the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she wrapped a machete sheath to her thigh.

“Yeah, but,” hesitating, she placed the machete in its sheath and switched her phone to the other ear. “It might also be some teens messing with witchcraft, either way I’ve got multiple bodies.” Dean huffed, the brunette straightened up at the noise. “What?” 

“You sure it isn’t just a regular serial killer?” Her eyes narrowed at his mocking tone and she licked her lips.

“Yeah, Dean, a regular human being eviscerated multiple people to the point that they are unrecognizable.” Dean winced in return, she crossed her arms. “Drained completely, with bites on what I assumed to be their necks.” 

“Hmm.”

“Once again, couldn’t really tell on account of them being mangled.”

“Stop.” She chuckled at his reaction.

“Pass the phone back to Sam.” The shuffle of the handback sounded through the phone, Sam's laugh and Dean’s disgusted groaning brought a smile to her face. 

“Where are you?” Just as she was about to answer, a scream made her eyes shoot up to the factory. Blood splattered against one of the large windows on the side facing her. Her heart began to beat faster. “Betty? Are you okay?” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Betty-” Sam’s voice cut off. The brunette placed the phone on the trunk on her car, knowing better than to bring it with her. Just as she predicted, it began to vibrate with Sam’s name on the phone caller ID. 

Gun in hand, she leaned against the wall beside the entrance. Peering in, she spotted multiple bodies. She fought back the urge to run off, and gripped her gun harder. Looking back, she can see someone wobbling toward her. Stepping out, she points her gun to the darkened figure.

“Don’t move.” Something drops from the figures hand and their hands shoot up. Betty lowers her gun a bit when the figure whimpers.

“Please.” Clicking a flashlight on, the brunette lowered her gun. Melissa Kilter stood in front of her, shivering, covered in blood from head to toe. Betty reached out to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay.” She comforted her. Melissa clung to her and cried. Light brown eyes looked to the scene behind them, multiple bodies, heads cut off. Taking her jacket off, Betty draped it over the young teens shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Something felt wrong. It had been gnawing at Betty from the moment she dropped Melissa off at her home. The feeling had brought her back to the factory, grabbing her phone, she winced at the 20 missed calls from Sam. Sighing, she called him back as she entered the factory again. 

“Betty!” He screamed into her ear, causing the brunette to pull the phone away from her ear. “Jesus, we thought you were dead!” 

“Sorry, Sam. Things escalated, I had to do something.” Sam sighed in response, she could tell he was peeved. “But something feels off.” She clicked her flashlight on again, scanning the area, she stepped over the dead bodies from earlier. The light of her flashlight reflected off a piece of jewelry worn by one of the bodies, a necklace that looked familiar to her. Lifting it up from the body, she noted that it was identical to the one Melissa and her friends wore in the picture.

“What do you mean?” Betty shrugged as if he could see her, letting the necklace fall back on the body.

“Not sure, just feel like I’m-” her flashlight landed on a drawn circle. “Missing something.” She finished her sentence. Kneeling down, she flashed her light onto the objects in the middle. At the center sat an open book, in front of it was a bowl filled with unidentifiable contents. “What the hell?”

“What? What did you find?” Betty picked up the book, her eyes scanning the contents of the page. Her face fell in response to what she read. 

“Son of a bitch.” Sam blinked in response to the brunette cursing, it was a rarity and always caught him off guard. Sighing, she slammed the book onto the ground and ran to her car. “Witchcraft. They were messing with witchcraft. Oh God, I have to get back to the Kilter house.” She slammed her car door closed.

“Slow down, Betty. What happened?” Starting her car, she set her phone to speaker mode and backed out onto the road. 

“They were messing with witchcraft. Trying to turn themselves into vampires.” She began, the book had been opened to a spell that would turn someone into a vampire, a spell that required a significant amount of blood and had a steep price. “But it backfired on the people they tested, on themselves.” Betty pressed the accelerator harder, praying that no one would try to stop her. “Melissa wasn’t cutting up the vampires because they attacked her, she was trying to hide the evidence of what they did.” 

The sound of rubber sounded through the quiet, peaceful neighborhood. Exiting her car, she pulled her gun from her waistband and grabbed her gun.

“What are you going to do?” Dean asked, Betty sighed and glanced at her machete.

“Well, if I’m right, then Melissa also performed the spell on herself.” She bit her bottom lip. “So, it’s a matter of time before it backfires on her.” Sighing, she cocked her gun. “If not, then I’ll call you back.” Shutting her phone closed, she neared the house and noticed the front door opened, a bloody handprint on it. Slowly opening the door, she was met with the sight of Pastor Kilter and Gianna, dead. She tried her best to ignore the bodies, stepping over them and finding their son sitting on the couch, Melissa dangerously close to his neck.

“Agent Scott!” He cried out, Melissa’s head snapped up. Her eyes were red and her sharp teeth were out. Betty kept her gun trained on her, taking slow, cautious steps toward them. Melissa backs away from her brother’s neck, her teeth retracting.

“Melissa, why are you doing this?” Betty asked, the blonde teen laughed, pulling her brother up from the couch. 

“Why do you think?!” She shouted, dragging her brother back with every step. “I hated this family. They never let me do anything. It was always God this, Jesus that.” Her blue eyes were crazed and filled with hatred as she looked down at her brother. “Of course, my big brother here was always the favorite. Always loyal and loved.” The man choked back a sob, desperately trying to pry himself out of his sister’s hold. Betty glanced at him while adjusting her gun.

“This isn’t worth it, Melissa.” The blonde looked up from her brother. “You saw what it did to your friends. It killed them, it’s only a matter of time until it kills you too.” Melissa glared at her.

“It’s worth it.” The confidence in her voice caught Betty off guard. “It’s worth getting my revenge.” Turning back to her brother, her teeth once again came out. She neared her brother, who attempted to crawl away from her. A gunshot made her stop in her tracks, it didn’t faze her as much as Betty had hoped it would. Tilting her at the brunette, Melissa cackled. “Really thought you did something there, didn’t you?” The brunette gave a nervous smile.

“Yeah, I sure did.” Instinctively, she threw her gun at the blonde and ran up the stairs. Melissa swatted the gun and walked after the brunette. 

The second floor of the house was clean, untouched compared to the bloodbath downstairs. Melissa arrived at the top step, she surveyed the doors leading to the family’s bedrooms. She could see that the door to her room swayed, she smirked and walked toward it. 

“You wanna know why I hate my family so much?” She asked loudly, pushing the door open. “They stole my childhood. Sheltered me. They hid the world from me.” The blonde sniffed at the air, but got no whiff of the brunette. “When I discovered witchcraft, I felt like I could have it all. Freedom, friends, and, of course, revenge.” Punching her hand through her closet, she ripped the door off. Searching through her clothes, she huffed in anger at finding nothing. “But, witchcraft comes with a price. And, well, my friends and I weren’t exactly masters of it.” Her eyes landed on her bed. “So, we kidnapped a few people. Experimented. But we got impatient.” Grabbing onto the bottom of her bed, she raised it and scowled at nothing. “I figured, why not just do it? Get our revenge and then die together. However, the spell ate them, ate their souls and body. Suddenly, I was the only one left.” From the corner of her eye, she spotted her door moving. Grabbing the knob, she pulled it and found the brunette standing there, eyes wide and nervous. “But you already knew that.” Her teeth came out and she growled at Betty, the brunette elbowed her chin and took off down the stairs. Melissa shook off her daze and followed after her. Jumping against the wall, she landed in front of the house's entrance, cutting Betty off.

“Crap.” The sound of a gun cocking made both turn to the living room. Melissa’s older brother stood there, gun in his hands, shaking. The blonde teen’s teeth retracted and he stared at her brother in shock.

“You would shoot me, brother?” Her voice was shaken, trembling with fake fear. Betty raised her eyebrows at her, glancing at the man, making sure he wasn’t falling for this. The brunette was shocked to find the older brother lowering the gun.

“Seriously?!” She expressed, motioning her arms at him. “She literally threatened to kill you, like, ten minutes ago.” Melissa dropped her scrunched up eyebrows and chuckled.

“Yeah, kinda dumb, big bro.” She smiled at him before turning to Betty. “Now, where were we?” Baring her teeth, she jumped at the brunette. Pulling her machete out, Betty blocked her bite and the two fell back. She struggled against Melissa’s strength, feeling a bit of deja vu. Seeing no other option, Betty headbutted the blonde, Melissa winced and let go of the machete. The brunette stood, twirling the machete in her hand to have a better grip. “What are you trying to do?” The blonde questioned, pushing Betty against the wall and swatting the weapon out of her hand. The older woman smirked.

“Waste time.” Melissa’s brows furrowed in confusion, suddenly, pain spread throughout her chest. Falling to the floor, she gasped for air, her skin losing color and bubbling. “A soul can only last so long.” The blonde teen growled glaring at the brunette, Betty could tell from the look in her eyes that she wouldn’t accept this loss. Grabbing the machete, Melissa made one last jump at Betty. A gunshot rang through the house, Melissa’s body fell to the ground, motionless. The blond man stood in front of Betty, his hands still shaking and his eyes tearful.

The ambulance called the attention of the whole neighborhood. Many questioned what happened, others made very distasteful comments that Betty would never dare repeat or even think about. She sat beside the blond man, listening to him give Sheriff Kent his testimony.

“Uh, my sister came back,” he began with a sigh. “She killed my parents and she would’ve killed me if Agent Scott didn’t show up when she did.” He offered the brunette a smile, the older woman didn’t return it, instead she rubbed his shoulder as an attempt to comfort her. The Sheriff nodded, jotting down what the young man had said, with a tip of his hat he left the two with a pitiful smile.

“Will you be alright?” Betty asked, the man’s blue eyes looked to the ground below him. Looking back to his house, he shook his head.

“Well, I lost my family, learned monsters are real, and that there are people who hunt these monsters all in the same night.” He began with an emotionless chuckle. “So, not really sure how to answer that question.” The brunette nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, I had the same reaction.” His eyes shot up to her, she gave him a stressed smile. “Are you going to go back to college?” She asked, averting her gaze with a clearing of her throat.

“Is that what you want to do?” Her head snapped back to him, he gave her genuine chuckle. “Come on, Betty. You look way too young to be an agent for the FBI.” Betty playfully clicked her tongue at him and internally cursed her genes for her baby face. “But yeah, I think I will.” Turning back to him, she smiled. Patting his back, she stood and sighed.

“Take care.”

The brunette threw herself onto her motel bed, exhausted. She had just gotten an earful from Sam over the phone for hanging up on him, again. He had urged her to find a hunting partner, even offered to be her partner himself. Her eyes slowly closed when her phone began to buzz in her pocket, sitting up she saw the caller ID, it was Audrey. Smiling, she flipped her phone open and brought it up to her ear.

“Audrey, what’re you doing up so late.” 

“What do you mean, Betty? It’s only 11.” The brunette slowly looked to the alarm clock beside her bed, she hummed in response. The time difference was only one hour, but it shocked Betty just how much had happened in only three hours.

“This had been a long night.”


	4. Demon from Our Past

_10 months ago_

_Cairo, Illinois_

_“Dad!” Betty entered her suburban home, a suitcase dragging behind her. Closing the front door, she pocketed her keys and scrunched her eyebrows at the silence she was met with. Usually, her dad would come running to hug her, especially after being gone for so long. “Dad? I’m home! Thanksgiving break!” Still, silence. The brunette noted the absence of decorations, her father was a festive person, influence she believed to have come from her late mother. Not a single holiday went uncelebrated in the house._

_Stepping to the living room, a feeling of dread overcame her body and the air around her became thick with something evil. The rug was scratched up, the glass table shattered, and the frames that once decorated the walls lay on the floor, broken. Picking up a picture of her and her parents that had fallen out of a frame, she noted blood lining it and a wet feeling on the back. She flipped it over, seeing the word ‘take’ written on the back. Seeing more pictures strewn about, she reached for them. Each had a word written on the back, all in blood._

_‘Take the car and the books. Don't call the police.’ They read, the brunette fought back anger. This was the message her dad left her? Whatever dire situation he was in, the somehow found the time to tell her to bring her car and the books, but not tell her where the was being taken. Shooting up, she took off up the stairs in search of the books. She knew exactly which ones her dad had been referring to, lore books, her father would read them to her as bedtime stories, terrifying stories about monsters and myths but she liked them._

_Grabbing as many books as she could carry, one fell from the top of the pile, scaring the brunette. As a result, she dropped all of the books and cursed at herself. While gathering them once again, she found a key underneath one. The key had a cross handle, and wasn't like anything she had seen before, at least not in her house. Then it struck her, he wasn't talking about her car._

_A cover fluttered off of her father’s 1965 Chevrolet Chevelle Malibu, Betty admired it. She had always been curious about the car, tried to take a peek at it as a child only for her father to chase her away from it. Now, here it sat in front of her, her aid to finding her parents. She loaded the books into the back seat of the car, and threw her suitcase in after them. Sitting in the driver’s seat, she let her hands feel the leather of the wheel. Breathing in, she suddenly knew where she had to go._

Present day

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Betty leaned her head against the steering wheel. The brunette felt that she was going in circles, finding herself back in Philadelphia. The same dark feeling from before loomed over the city, just as it had when she first arrived 10 months ago. Raising her head, she chuckled at her naivety back then. She thought the problem had suddenly stopped, but when her connection, Chief Meyers, called telling her people were dying again, she couldn’t help but beat herself up. If she had known more then these people wouldn’t have died. 

Breathing in, she cracked her knuckles and adjusted her suit. Her eyes landed on a figure coming out of the station. The ends of her lips curled up, recognizing him as Chief Meyers. Quickly exiting, she shot him a smile which he returned as he walked up to her. 

“Wish I could say it’s good to see you, Betty.” The brunette nodded in agreement, leaning against her car. “You know you didn’t have to do the whole FBI getup, right?” He remarked, motioning to her clothes. Betty shrugged, shoving her hands into her pocket.

“Wouldn’t want to seem suspicious.” He nodded in silent agreement, leaning beside her. “So, victims of the same pool as last time?” Meyers crossed his arms.

“Yup, all randomly became wealthy around 10 years ago and were killed in their place of work.” Sighing, Betty licked her lips. She reached through the opened backseat window behind her, pulling out one of her father’s lore books.

“I figured out what it is,” opening the book to a page, she passed it to Meyers. “Crossroads demon, they make deals with people and then collect payment 10 years later by sending their Hellhounds.” The Chief flipped through the book the brunette handed him. “The payment being their soul.” Meyers chuckled, continuing to flip through the book. 

“Where did you get these books?” He asked, handing the book back to the girl. She smiled, tossing it back into her backseat. 

“My father wrote them.” 

_Pulling into a motel’s parking lot, Betty fought the urge to pass out in the driver’s seat. A million thoughts ran through her head, she rubbed her face in an attempt to wake herself up. The brunette had no idea what to do, her eyes landed on that same cross-handled key and she realized that she had never opened the trunk._

_The trunk popped open, Betty’s eyes widened at what she found. She quickly looked around, making sure no one was around to see. Thankfully, it was late and no one was around. The trunk held an impressive array of weapons, guns to blades. And two small cardboard boxes, opening one, she found a note._

_“Betty,” she began, reading it outloud. “I have been preparing you all your life for this. Everything you’ll ever need is in this trunk.” Lowering the note, she looked back to the box. It was filled with multiple phones. “What the hell?” She questioned, grabbing the other box, she ripped it open. Multiple fake IDs, all with her face. “When did he-” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. Closing and locking the trunk, she went to check in._

_The brunette stared at herself in the motel mirror, checking her suit. Thankfully, it had been packed in her suitcase for potential interviews during her college days. She glanced at the fake FBI badge sitting on the bed beside her, picking it up, she opened it. A slightly younger her stared back at her, a closed smile on her lips. The brunette questioned if this ruse would actually work, and her eyes landed on a newspaper. She had read it yesterday, two people, dead, mauled by an animal, in their place of work._

_“Chief Meyers?” Her voice was shaky, and her brows clearly exposed her nervousness. An older man with brown eyes and greying hair stuffed under a police hat looked down to her. “Agent-” she scrambled for her badge, flashing it at the Chief, she glanced at it. “Seymour.” Clearing her throat, she quickly pocketed the badge again. “I’m here about the two deaths.” The Chief raised an eyebrow at her._

_“The animal attacks?” He scoffed at her, causing Betty’s face to fall. Meyers chuckled at her reaction and motioned for her to follow. “You ever seen a dead body?” Following the man, the brunette’s eyes widened and glanced around to the other people at the station._

_“Uh, yes, why?” She was lying, her father barely let her leave the house before she turned 18, there was absolutely no way she would’ve ever seen a dead body. But, for the sake of the case and finding her father, she lied._

_“Just,” he paused, pushing the door of the morgue open. “You look a little young to be an agent for the bureau.” She could feel him looking at her face, examining every detail. Her eyes shot around as her mind searched for an excuse._

_“Prodigy!” She shouted, Meyers blinked at her in surprise. “I, um, was a prodigy.” Wasn’t technically a lie, Betty had been a prodigy from a young age. She had only been one semester away from getting her nursing degree and entering medical school at the young age of 20._

_“Alright, well, come on in.” Betty followed behind him, her eyes glued to the floor. “Put some gloves on, might get messy.” Sighing, she took gloves from the medical tray beside her. Swallowing her disgust, she raised her head and looked at the body. It wasn’t as bad as she had expected, well, it had been a few days since the businessman in front of her had died._

_“So,” she began putting the gloves on and choking back disgust, Meyers looked up at her from the body. “Any idea how an animal big enough to do this got on the 56th floor of a building?” The Chief sighed with a shrug of his shoulders._

_“Yeah, guess that’s one of the weirder things about this case.” Their heads snapped up to the morgue doors opening, two more bodies in bags rolled in. Betty’s stomach dropped and her eyes widened. “More bodies?” The Chief asked the morgue worker, she nodded in agreement._

_“Two more animal attacks.” Her hand moved to the zipper of one body bag. Betty shook her head quickly, hoping something would interrupt before she had to see more. But, no such luck. The body was that of a man, one she recalled seeing a photo of in the newspaper. He was scratched to hell, blood dried on his wounds and splattered on his shredded suit. The brunette let a look of disgust emerge on her face, she switched back to a passive look when the two looked back at her._

_“So, Agent, any idea?” Sighing, she shook her head._

_“I’ve never seen anything like this.”_

_The time was nearing 3 am, Betty lay awake in her motel bed. In the dark, she stared up at the room's ceiling. What was she doing here? Sure, when she first sat in her father’s car a gut feeling told her that they were in Philadelphia. But, now what? As soon as she had reached the city, her gut had changed course calling her somewhere new. Of course, she would have moved on but people were dying and she clearly had the resources to deal with whatever it was. That’s the problem though, she had no clue what the hell was going on in the city._

_Sitting up on her bed, she looked to her father’s books. She spent the next few hours digging through them, she noted scribbles on the margins, probably her father including details he missed. Flipping through one particular lore book, she stopped at a page on demons. Her brown eyes caught a note written in the margin._

_‘Never trust a demon.’_

_Swallowing a feeling of dread, she sighed and turned the page. One monster caught her eye, a werewolf. A monster that attacked people and ate their hearts. But there was one thing that didn’t add up, it wasn’t a full moon and the victims had their hearts. Atleast, she thinks they did. Sighing, she let the book fall and winced at a deep paper-cut on her finger. She examined the small cut on her right pointer finger, just as a drop of blood began to seep out, the cut faded away. Wide brown eyes stared at where the cut had been._

_“What the hell?”_

Betty looked around the dark area, reaching for a box that sat on the closed trunk of her car. She was at a crossroads, just outside the city, Chief Meyers had insisted on coming with her but she assured him that she would be fine on her own. Walking up to a shallow hole, she kneeled down and settled the box into the hole. She covered it up with dirt, standing, she dusted her hands off. 

“Hey there, Betty.” The brunette jumped at the female voice behind her. Turning, she met a black-eyed woman with light brown hair. The black in her eyes disappeared with a blink, leaving behind ocean blue eyes. “So, what can I do for you?” She smirked, nearing Betty. The demon was shorter than her, Betty noted, backing away slightly. “Fame? Money?” She listed, walking around the taller woman and caressing a hand on her cheek. “Love from a certain boy?” Betty felt her face heat up, and she swatted the demon’s hand away.

“I want you to cancel your deals.” The demon chuckled, but her smile fell when met with Betty’s neutral face. 

“Funny,” she began, backing away from the darker brunette. “But I don’t think I will.” Betty sighed, looking away and quirking her brows.

“Really hoped we could’ve done this the easy way.” Looking back at the demon, she lifted her pointer finger and circled it in the air. The shorter woman gave a strangled giggle, the sound of burning made her look down. A devil’s trap burned into the ground underneath her, softly gasping, the demon looked back to Betty with angry eyes.

“This is a stupid move, Betty.” She began, attempting to come off as intimidating. Betty raised an eyebrow at her, the demon sighed in frustration. “Look, I’ll give you anything you want.” 

“Cancel your deals.” The demon let out an angry grunt, her eyes turning black again. 

“I won’t do that.” Betty sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Looking around, she crossed her arms, ignoring the death glare the demon was sending her.

“Guess I’ll have to send you back to hell.” The demon felt herself calm down. Sent back to hell? She sneaked out once, she could sneak out again. “Permanently.” The feeling of calm disappeared, Betty looked back to the demon.

“Please.” She begged. 

“Cancel your deals.” Betty demanded, walking closer to the demon. Black eyes stared into brown eyes. The demon gave in, turning away as her eyes turned back to blue.

“Fine.” With a snap of her fingers, Betty felt the dark feeling lift from the city. “Now, let me go.” The darker brunette raised her finger before lowering it, she smiled at the demon.

“Or, I could just leave you here forever.” Blue eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed.

“No,” she began, pointing her finger at the taller woman. “You do not get to screw me over!” Betty shrugged, stuffing her hands into her pockets and turned, beginning to walk away. “Let me go and I’ll tell you where your father is!” The taller woman abruptly stopped, the demon smiled. “That’s right, I know who took him. And I’ll tell you exactly where they are.” The demon expected gratefulness, a powerful adversary on her side, but her smile of triumph fell. Betty glared at her from over her shoulder, a cold glare that made the demon shudder. 

“What did you just say?” Turning completely, Betty took slow steps until she was standing at the edge of the trap. The demon swallowed her fear.

“Your father, he was taken by demons.” Brown eyes looked to the ground, the demon felt that she had found her leverage. “You need me. I can help you find him.” Betty’s eyes closed, taking in a deep breath. The note written in her father’s book flashed on her closed lids.

‘Never trust a demon.’ Her eyes opened once more.

“No.” Their eyes met, the taller woman's eyes began to glow a bluish white. The demon felt her breath catch in her throat as a hand rested on her shoulder. “Never trust a demon.” The demon began to scream, eyes turning black. Black smoke exited her body, raising up into the air before slamming and disappearing into the ground. Betty caught the newly freed brunette, whose eyes had turned back to normal. Her other hand went up to her nose, catching some blood as her eyes turned brown. The shorter woman blinked back into consciousness, she looked to Betty in confusion.

“Where am I?” 

_Betty dug through her trunk, looking for a silver blade. Despite being unsure, the brunette felt that it’d be better to be safe than sorry. Leaning deeper into the trunk, she reached for the silver blade toward the back. Grabbing it, she let out a sound of triumph that was cut short by a gun cocking behind her._

_“Hands up.” Chief Meyers held a handgun at the brunette. Betty froze, dropping the blade back into its spot. Raising her hands, she turned and met his eyes. He motioned for her to move away from the trunk, she complied. She watched him peer into her trunk. “Who exactly are you?” He asked, turning back to her. “Called the FBI, said there was no agent named Seymour. So, who are you?” The brunette searched her mind for some sort of explanation that would make sense._

_“This is going to sound crazy.” She began, Meyers shrugged._

_“Try me.” Meeting his eyes, she swallowed and exhaled through her nose._

_“My name is Betty Rivera,” he lowered his gun as she began to talk. “I’m looking for my father Joshua Rivera.” A nervous smile found its way to her face. “Now, this part is going to sound insane.” Meyers raised an eyebrow at her. “He was taken by something supernatural, and I think the thing killing the people in this city is supernatural too.” They stared at each other in silence. Betty had expected him to arrest her, throw her into a psych ward. Instead, he simply nodded and put his gun back into its holster._

_“Alright.” The brunette shook her head in confusion._

_“Alright?” Betty wasn’t going to lie, she had expected an argument, maybe even a struggle for the gun. But this, this was not at all how she thought it would go down._

_“Yeah, I’ve met lots of Hunters.” He reasoned turning to her trunk, Betty’s eyebrows furrowed._

_“Hunters?” She questioned, walking to stand beside him as he rummaged through her father’s small armory. He nodded, pulling out a katana and examining it._

_“That’s what you’re called, isn’t it?” He looked to her and the realization hit him. She looked at him with desperation, hope. Hope that he could tell her the things she didn’t know, but even he didn’t have all the answers. Lowering the katana, he sighed. “This is your first case.” She nodded._

_“Yes, uh, I was just a regular college student,” she began, brushing her hand through her hair. “The only time I had ever heard about supernatural things was through stories that my father would tell me.” Meyers nodded in understanding._

_“Well, I hadn’t known about it either. Not until a few hunters rolled in a few months ago.” He placed the katana back into the trunk, reaching for his gun. “Not gonna lie, thought you were a werewolf.” Popping out the mag of his gun to reveal silver bullets, Betty blinked at the thought that she could’ve died. He chuckled at her reaction, shoving the mag back in. “Yeah, well, crisis averted.” He gave her a strong pat on her back, placing the gun back into its holster._

_“So, you also think it’s a werewolf?” Meyers shook his head._

_“Nah, all the vics still have their hearts.” Betty nodded, thankful that she wouldn’t have to look at the bodies again. “Just like you, I have almost zero knowledge about these things.” She looked over the weapons in the car, letting out a breathy chuckle. “Anyway, no one’s died these past three days. Whatever it is, it moved on.” He patted her shoulder, adjusting his hat with a flick._

_“Huh,” she began, a feeling of disappointment building up. “Well, if anything ever comes up again,” her eyes met him. “You have my number.”_

Chief Meyers could see the turmoil on the brunette’s face. She was leaning against her car, eyes staring out at nothing. She snapped out of her daze when Meyers leaned beside her, turning to look at him, she forced a small smile. 

“You did the right thing.” He rubbed a hand on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her. “That demon would’ve definitely tricked you.” His words didn’t help her and he could tell. Just as she let out a sigh, he punched her shoulder.

“Ow!” She yelled, rubbing her shoulder and furrowing her brows at him. “What the hell, Meyers?” The older man laughed at her reaction, shooting her a carefree smile. 

“You did good,” her brows relaxed at his words. “Saved lots of people.” A small genuine smile replaced her frown, Meyers tipped his hat at her while standing. “Well, hope we see each other, under different circumstances.” He gave her one last smile. “Look forward to meeting your father one day.” Betty nodded, pleased with the thought. She watched him walk away, her smile falling. The ring of her phone made her look away. Sam’s name appeared on the caller ID, and she smiled. Flipping it open, she brought it to her ear.

“Hey, Sam.” 


	5. Family Mathers

Eyebrows furrowed at the case files before her. Betty sat in a Lawrence, Kansas motel. Three men dead, only thing connecting the murders being cold burns on the bodies and the girlfriend of each man having been a witness to their deaths. Glancing at an open lore book, the brunette had already confirmed it to be a ghost, but she hadn’t the slightest idea who or where it was. A groan escaped her lips, knowing that she would have to go back to look at the bodies again, see if she had missed anything. 

“Ah, Agent Resse,” began Officer Haddin, an older woman who reminded Betty of Officer Cortez, as Betty entered the police station. “You back to look at the bodies again?” She asked, taking a sip from a small disposable cup of water while leaning against the water cooler. Betty sighed inwardly, her eyes landed on the evidence lockers, making her eyebrows quirk and head turn.

“Uh, actually, can I take a look at the evidence taken from the bodies?” Officer Haddin obliged, setting her water down and grabbing the hanging keys from her belt. She opened one of the lockers, pulling out multiple bags of evidence and handing them to the brunette.

“Here ya go, sweetie.” She gave her a sweet smile, which Betty returned as she laid the bags onto a table just in front of the lockers. She could feel the older woman’s gaze on her back, glancing at her from over her shoulder, Officer Haddin crossed her arms. “How come you don’t have a partner?” It was a question that Betty was used to receiving, her answers never really satisfied anyone.

“I work well by myself.” She wasn’t surprised that Haddin frowned at her response, she simply moved past the conversation and continued to lay the evidence out. 

“Well, you can’t be alone all the time.” Haddin began, walking to the doorway. Betty took slight offense to what she said.

“I’m not alone all the time.” She protested. “I have friends.” Haddin shook her head with a pitiful smile.

“A friend and a partner are different, Resse.” The older woman began. “A friend is someone you see every once in a while, catch up, maybe have a cup of coffee. But,” her hand landed on Betty’s shoulder, the older woman having to look up at the younger one. “A partner,” there was a glint in the woman’s eyes, almost as if she were remembering something, something important. “A partner is someone who you don’t need to play catch up with because they are always with you. They trust you with their life, you do the same, without hesitation. That, my dear,” she gave the brunette’s shoulder another strong pat. “Is a partner.” Wide brown eyes watched Haddin leave the room, Betty still didn’t understand and she felt that she wouldn't be able to understand for a while.

Turning back to the evidence, she shook off a feeling of confusion. Her eyes analyzed every piece taken from the victims. Bloody clothes, jewelry, a receipt. A receipt. All three victims had a receipt from the same diner, a diner where they had gone on their last date with their girlfriends. Picking one of them up, she squinted in an effort to read the diner’s name. Mathers Diner.

The diner was scarce. From the driver’s seat of her car, Betty could see a small group of people sitting at a table. She had concluded that it was the Mathers family, not because she was a Sherlock Holmes level sleuth, but mainly because of the large banner hanging in the window. It read; Mathers Family Reunion. She bit the inside of her cheek. Something about the family name felt familiar to her, but with a shrug she exited her car, prepared to play out her FBI role once more.

The ding of the diner door was drowned out by the enthusiastic yells of the family. The brunette stood at the diner counter awkwardly, too shy to call attention to herself. The doors of the kitchen flew open, an older man dusting flour onto his apron and swatting some of it from his round face.

“One second, dear.” He told Betty, who reached for her badge within her pocket. The older man gave a little chuckle, looking up to the young woman. “Sometimes the flour has a mind of-” he cut himself off when his brown eyes landed on the brunette. Betty blinked at him, before glancing around in confusion. “Elizabeth?” The brunette was caught off guard by the mention of her mother’s name.

“Uh, my name is Betty,” she began, letting her badge fall back into her pocket. “Betty Rivera. Did- did you know my mother?” The older man’s hand shot up to his mouth, leaving flour handprint across his lip and chin, while tears filled his eyes.

“Know her?” He chuckled. “She was my daughter.” Betty’s eyes widened, and the older man’s hands landed on her shoulders, giving them a soft rub and leaving flour behind. “Oh, Little Betty. You look just like her. Just like my baby girl.” Wiping away a tear, the man turned in the direction of the rest of family. “Everyone! Little Betty’s returned!” The adults at the table turned to look at them, standing once the realization set in. Some gave her smiles while crowding her, others watched from a distance.

“Little Betty,” one man began, giving her the most bone crushing hug she had ever received. “I’m your uncle Reggie.” She was still confused. All her life she thought the only family she had was her mother and father, and occasionally a friendly police officer. “Come, sit with us.” He led her to an empty chair at the table, sitting her down in front of eyes that looked at her with adoration. She felt like a stranger.

“Uh,” all eyes were on her, many seemingly waiting for her to say something. “I’m sorry,” she put her left hand up, her right massaging her temples in attempts to process the situation. “I never knew I had any other family besides my parents.” The huff from an older man in front of her made her bring both hands down to her lap.

“Is that what your father told you?” Reggie slapped the back of the man’s head, Betty’s grandfather gave him a look and shushed him. 

“Leave Little Betty alone, Mitch.” The brunette’s eyebrows furrowed, her lips twitching in confusion.

“Why do you keep putting little in front of my name?” She asked. A young woman, maybe a couple of years older than her, spoke up.

“Cause you were so little when you were born,” she explained with a shrug and a gesture of her hand that served to exaggerate how small Betty had been. “Real tiny.” Mitch once again huffed.

“And because that was the last time we ever saw you,” he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. “When you were little and barely born.” Betty frowned at the man.

“Wait, you came to Cairo for my birth, but you never visited after?” Silence filled the diner, the family members giving each other awkward glances. Her grandfather finally spoke.

“Betty, you were born here, in Lawrence.” The brunette blinked, she could’ve sworn she heard the sound of glass shattering. “The day after you were born, we all went to visit you in the hospital again but-”

“But your son of a bitch father took you and my baby sister and ran off to who knows where.” Mitch interrupted, Reggie once again slapped the back of his head.

“We know where they went now, Mitch. Cairo.” He turned back to Betty, who was still in a daze state. “But we know he must’ve had his reasons.”

“Yeah, cause any reason would justify him killing Maw.” Her grandfather glared at Mitch’s words, smacking the back of his head. Reggie hit him once more. Shaking her head, Betty forced herself out of her daze.

“Maw?” She questioned, her grandfather sighed.

“Your grandmother,” He began, grabbing a picture from a shelf above one of the diner booths. “After you and Eliza disappeared, her heart became weak from stress.” He dabbed a tear out of his eye, passing the picture to the brunette. “She passed away a few weeks ago.” There was somber silence that filled the diner. Betty looked at the picture of her grandmother, striking green eyes and blonde hair, guilt filling every crevice of her soul. 

The brunette sat in her car, parked in the motel lot. She stared at nothing in particular before closing her eyes and sighing. There was just too much to take in. Her father had lied to her. Told her that his family and her mother’s family were nonexistent, that they only had each other. Why? Why do this? She reeled in confusion, trying to justify her father’s decisions in her mind but coming up empty. The ringing of her phone made her jump.

“Hello?” She asked, not bothering to read the caller ID. 

“Hey, Betty.” It was Sam. “Just calling in to check up on you.” She could hear a rowdy Dean in the background, singing along to a song she couldn’t name. “So, what’s up?” Looking up, she debated on where to start.

“Well,” she began, picking at her cuticles. “I just got out of an accidental family reunion.” Yeah, that’s one way to put it. A stifled chuckle came from Sam.

“What? How does that happen?” He asked, the music in the background lowered in volume. 

“It happens when your father keeps secrets from you.” She lets out a groan while sinking in the driver’s seat. “I was just tryna investigate a ghost, but suddenly I learned that mom’s family exists, I wasn’t even born in Cairo, and my grandma’s dead.” She paused. “My grandma’s dead.” 

“That sounds insane.” Sam remarks but he was drowned out by Betty's thoughts. Thinking a bit more, the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. The brunette grabbed the case files sitting in her passenger seat, pulling out the photos of the victims when they were alive. All of them were of Mexican descent, had dark hair, and dark green eyes. Laying them on her dashboard, she pulled out a picture of her father from her wallet. She was breathless at the similarities and had to refrain from punching the wheel in anger.

“This isn’t good.” She stated, eyes almost glaring into those of her father’s picture. 

“What isn’t good?” Sam asked, reminding her that she was in the middle of a phone call. 

“I think I’m hunting my grandma.”

Betty stared at the picture frame in her hands. She was sitting in the living room of her uncle Reggie’s house, arriving to ask questions and taking him up on an earlier offer to bond. The picture she was looking at was of her mother, taken when she was around Betty’s age, around three years before she met her father. It was almost like looking in a mirror. Their similarities were striking, except for her mother’s light brown hair, almost a dirty blonde. Her thumb caressed over the photo, specifically on her mom’s hair, a small smile on her face.

“Eliza was a real beauty.” She looks up, seeing Reggie set a coffee cup in front of her as he sat on a seat across from her. “Only daughter of the family, certainly the one that got all of the good looks from maw.” Betty laughed through her nose, setting the frame drown.

“I wish I had more pictures of her.” Grabbing the cup, she brought it up to her lips, noting that it was exactly the way she always made it. “Anyway, I wanted to ask some questions about my grandmother.” Her uncle nodded, motioning for her to ask away. “I was wondering if she was cremated.” She wasn’t shocked at the strange look he gave her.

“Uh, yeah.” The woman clicked her tongue. Maybe it wasn’t her grandmother. Maybe some other dead person got someone stolen from them by a man that looked like her father, she wouldn’t put it past him to be hiding something else. “We keep her urn and some of her things in the diner. It’s what she would’ve wanted.” This caught the brunette’s attention.

“Her things?” Reggie nodded, taking a sip from his cup. “What things?” The man gave a thoughtful look, patting his pointer finger over his top lip.

“Let’s see, her special knives, her awards,” Reggie let a hum through his lips, still thinking. Betty inwardly sighed, deeming these items not enough to keep her spirit here. “Oh, and the family ring!” Now that caught her attention.

“Family ring?” Reggie nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile on his lips.

“It’s from our mom’s side of the family,” he pointed toward Betty. “Your grandma.” The brunette nodded, sipping her coffee in interest. “It’s been passed down to every woman from her family, but mom was never able to pass it onto Eliza.” He scratched the back of his neck. “So, we left it beside her urn.” He chuckled and shook his head. “A bad idea really, cause every girl who comes by with their boyfriend tries it on and then whines about wanting one just like it.” Bingo.

“Huh,” she begins, looking into her coffee. “That’s interesting.” So, her grandmother was connected to the ring meant for her daughter. And whenever an unsuspecting woman tried it on, she hitched a ride and killed their boyfriend if they so much as resembled her father. Very interesting. Reggie leaned forward in his seat, catching the brunette’s attention. He put the cup down and folded his hands.

“Listen, Little Betty,” he began, uncertainty in his voice as he rubbed his knuckle. “I have some questions I want to ask too.” The brunette nodded in understanding, setting her cup down. “About Eliza.” Swallowing the remaining coffee in her mouth, she mirrored Reggie’s body language. 

“Okay.” Was all she could say, her hand shooting up to stroke her own hair. 

“Is she-” he choked a little on his words, causing him to cough to clear his throat. “Is she still alive?” Taking a deep breath, the brunette looks to the floor. Her hand still stroked her dark hair.

“She, uh,” Looking back to her uncle, she fought the urge to clamp her mouth shut. “She passed away, when I was fifteen, from cancer.” Reggie’s brown eyes widened in shock, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Cancer?” 

“Leukemia.” The man shook his head at her, the brunette was unsure if he was in denial or just couldn’t process the information. It was understandable, your sister and her daughter disappeared 21 years ago and suddenly the daughter showed up, no idea she had more family and bearing news of your sister’s death. So, she sort of expected this reaction.

“That can’t be,” he mumbled, picking up the framed picture of his sister. “She- she was healthy and-” he cut himself off, tears beginning to roll down his cheek. Betty reached a hand to his shoulder, giving it a soft, apologetic rub.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

Night had fallen, the crisp autumn wind howled as Betty exited her car. She pulled her hood over her head, hoping not to attract any attention during her break in. The diner sat in front of her, empty and dreary save for a neon sign that displayed the word “closed”. Stuffing her hand in her pocket, she pulled out a lock pick. She wasn’t exactly skilled at picking locks, she was self taught, and had only used it to get herself back into her house or dorm if she ever got locked out. After a bit of aimless picking, the sound of the lock clicking made her throw her fist up in small victory. 

Moonlight illuminated the diner, it was enough light, making Betty deem a flashlight unnecessary. Her eyes landed on the urn, sitting idly on a small shelf above a diner booth. Nearing it, the brunette could see a silver band beside it. Small and bright, it clearly had been altered in size for its future owner. Picking it up, Betty felt a pit of guilt build up in her stomach. She was about to destroy a family heirloom, her family heirloom. The picture of her grandmother stared at her with judging green eyes.

She sighed, her eyes flickering at realization that she could see her breath. Her hand clasped around the ring at the sound of the wood floor creaking behind her. Looking to the urn, she could see the reflection of a figure standing behind her. Slowly, her hand reached a salt shaker that sat on the table before her. Turning quickly, she shook it in the direction of the figure.

“Woah, boy!” The figure shouted turning as their hands shot up to their eyes. “Salt in my eye! Salt in my eye!” Betty’s eyebrows furrowed at the realization of who it was.

“Uncle Reggie?” She questioned, putting the salt shaker down quickly. Her hand found a spot on his back, attempting to soothe him and quiet him down. “Oh, jeez. I’m sorry.” She frantically said, her mind raced, how was she going to explain this?

“Oh, no problem, Little Betty.” He assured her, turning back while still rubbing his left eyes. “Just a little salt, no harm-” for a split second, the brunette thought she might’ve gotten lucky and Reggie wouldn't ask any questions. “Hey, wait a minute!” The brunette cursed her luck, clicking her tongue. “Why did you break into the diner!?” 

“It’s difficult to explain, Reggie.” She began, bringing her hands up. Then she noticed her breath, more visible and a cold shroud fell onto the diner. The lights around them began to flicker, one even bursting above them. Reggie covered his head with his arms, looking to Betty for some kind of explanation. “You need to get out of here.” Is all she tells him before pushing toward the front door.

“What’s happening, Betty!?” The lights all shut off, save for one at the other end of the diner causing them to freeze in place. The two look toward it. Her form flickering, a female figure walks under it. Long matted blonde hair, a decaying face and body, and the sharpest green eyes the two had ever seen.

“Give me back my ring!” She yelled, causing the diner to shake. Reggie looked to Betty, grabbing the hand that held the ring and forcing it open. He snatched the ring from her hand.

“You stole the ring!?” He yelled at her, the brunette shook her head, attempting to explain. A force pushed her back, making her hit the wall beside the urn and fall onto the booth’s table, leaving her dazed and hurt. Reggie jumped back, a cold hand grabbing him from behind. He feels his skin burn from the cold as the woman drags him down, staring into his soul. “Please, please.” He begs, offering the ring. The woman takes the ring, but doesn’t let up on her grip, only tightening it.

“Stop!” Betty calls out, standing from where she had landed. Her hood falls off as she is forced down by something unseen, landing at the feet of the ghostly woman. “Please, he’s your son!” Reggie shot a shocked look at the girl, his eyes returning to his ghostly mother. The woman raised her hand, ignoring the brunette's pleas and prepared to hit Reggie. “Please!” A burst of bluish light brought the rest of the diner’s light on, making the ghost look around in shock before her eyes landed on Betty. Piercing green eyes softened, and Reggie hit the floor, being suddenly let go.

“Eliza?” Betty felt the weight on her fall, allowing her to stand before the ghostly woman. The brunette shook her head softly, making the ghost sigh. “No, you’re not.” Betty tensed at her words, fearing that she would go back to attacking. “I know she’s gone.” Green eyes fell to the ring, her thumb rubbing it. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all the brunette can bring herself to say, looking down in apologetic shame. 

“You look just like her.” Her grandmother remarks, her hand reaching Betty’s cheek and lifting her face to meet hers. “Little Betty.” The soft smile on the ghost’s face was out of place, what with the decaying skin and matted hair. “Tell me something.” The ghost began, her smile slightly falling. “Was she happy?” The brunette was caught off guard, searching her grandmother’s face. Thinking, a memory comes to the brunette.

_Her mother, smiling from her hospital bed. Brushing her hands through the young brunette’s hair in a comforting manner whenever they received bad news. Telling her that everything happened for a reason, telling her that even in death she would never regret anything, and that, despite her illness, she was happy._

Betty’s eyes fill with tears, offering a soft small smile to her grandmother. She nodded softly, a breathless laugh coming through her smile.

“Yes.” Though her voice was shaky, her conviction was immovable and clear. “Yes, she was.” Her grandmother returns the smile, rubbing a thumb on the brunette’s cheek. A gold light begins to shine from the ghost, and Betty watches in awe. Her grandmother looks as she did before she died, striking and lively green eyes, and light blonde hair. The older woman takes her hand off of the brunette’s cheek, grabbing her hand instead. Placing the ring into her palm, she forces Betty’s hand closed.

“I want you to have it.” She says. Betty gives her a look of disbelief, feeling that she was unworthy of it. “She would want you to have it.” Tears streak down the brunette’s cheeks, watching as her grandmother turns into a mist of gold that floats upward.

“What in all holy hell was that!?” Her uncle Reggie yelled, breaking away from his shock and finding his voice. Betty gives him a stifled chuckle, grabbing his arm and pulling him to his feet.

“That, uncle Reggie, was a ghost.” 

The brunette watched her uncle enter his house, shooting her one last wave goodbye. She smiled, seeing him trip over his entrance. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled the ring out. Looking closely, the ring wasn’t just a silver band. It had a few gems embedded into the band, three different colors; red, white, and blue. She hesitated putting it on, and she was unsure that it would even fit her finger. But the ring slipped on, seemingly a perfect fit. Brown eyes admired the ring on her finger, a soft smile appearing on her mouth as she brought her hand to her chest. The buzzing of her phone caught her attention. 

“Hey, Sam.”

“Hey, Bee.” Betty’s eyes shot up, her soft smile turning into an entertained one. “I knew as soon as I said it.” She chuckled, pulling onto the road and beginning her journey to the next state calling her name.

“No, it’s a good nickname. Better than Bug.” The brunette attempted to reassure Sam, her tone coming off a bit jokingly as she gets a dig at Dean. She could hear him huff. “So, what’s up?” She asked.

“Just an update on our end, we have a lead on our dad. We’re heading up to Colorado, might not be able to contact you for a few days.” Betty didn’t really like the sound of that, but she would certainly do the same if it meant finding her father.

“Got it, good luck.” She almost ended the call there, but she quickly added. “Call me as soon as you can.” A part of her always feared the idea of something bad happening to the brothers. 

“Of course,” he began, his voice hushed almost as if to stop someone from listening in. “Bye, Bee.” He offered, Betty genuinely smiled in response to the nickname, feeling it growing on her.

“Bye, Sammy.”


	6. Missed Connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be at least a two week delay in the next update because I will be rewriting the first few chapter to better fit new developments in the storyline.

Blanton Forest, Kentucky, four people missing. Betty had arrived at the Ranger’s station, pulling her coat closed in response to a cold breeze. In her mind she went over her cover story. Today, she’s Search and Rescue Officer Nina Tucker, following up on the most recent disappearance of Luke Dwyer. Nodding to herself, she was proud of the convincing lie she came up with. She looked down at the ID, she still wondered when her father found the time to do it. And who he had gotten to do it for him. Shrugging, she shoved the ID into the pocket of her coat.

“Great, another agent.” Brown eyes blinked as the door of the station closed behind her. An incredibly young female ranger walked up to her, three other rangers behind her. “Didn’t your team already tell you? You’ve got no place here.” She spat, crossing her arms, the people behind her stifled laughs. Betty raised an eyebrow at them. “You feds, always come in where you don’t belong.” Had other hunters been here already? Shaking her head, she reached for her ID.

“Actually, I’m with Search and Rescue.” Flashing her ID, their smiles fell and they backed away. The female ranger’s face went red. 

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry, ma’am.” She apologized, uncrossing her arms and rubbing her back of her neck. “We’ve just had two feds come in, acting like big shots, undermining us. Got a little defensive is all.” The brunette nodded slowly, still not completely understanding. “Anyway, I’m Forest Ranger Fitz, Bianca Fitz.” She offered her hand.

“Officer Nina Tucker,” she began, taking her hand and shaking it. “I’m following up on Luke Dwyer’s recent disappearance.” Ranger Fitz nodded, motioning her to follow. 

“I’ll take you to the site.” Both climbed into a large tuck. Driving away from the station, Betty could feel the ranger glancing at her. “So, usually you guys have partners. Where’s yours?” The brunette had hardly been able to stop her eyes from widening, turning to the ranger, she blurted out the first excuse she could think of.

“He’s out for personal reasons,” she looked forward. “Besides it’s just a follow up. See if Luke possibly returned or if he’s still out there.” Betty refrained from looking back at Fitz, her stomach hurt at the possibility that her lie wouldn’t be believed. 

“Makes sense.” She let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

The scene was horrific to say the least. Luke had been camping with two friends, fellow highschool classmates. Their last hurrah before going off to college. That last hurrah ended in bloodshed and a disappearance. 

Luke’s friends were found, strung up on a tree, necks snapped. Blood was splattered across a shredded tent. A cooler was knocked over, all of the food and drinks still present. Walking around the scene, Betty examined anything she could find. She squatted beside the tent, using a pen that had been in her pocket to raise the flap of the tent. Sleeping bags were torn to shreds. Standing up, she noticed something etched on a nearby tree. 

“Ranger Fitz,” she called, walking toward the tree. Fitz walked up beside her. “Would you happen to know what this is?” It was a strange symbol, unlike anything either of the women had seen. The ranger shook her head, Betty ran her fingers over the mark. On the right of the mark, three names overlapped it. Luke was one of them. “Where did the other disappearances happen?” Fitz motioned a hand beyond the tree.

“A couple of miles that way.” The brunette nodded, letting out a breath that she could see due to the chilly air. Pulling out her phone, she flipped in open and took a photo of the symbol.

The phone with the image sat on an opened book, beside it was the symbol drawn into the lore book. Betty sat at a desk, head rested on her palm. Her brown eyes stared down at the symbol, Anasazi. Originating from the Anasazi people, it is used as protection against wendigos. She sighed, reading her father’s scribbles. She thought back to what Fitz had said, two FBI agents had visited the station earlier that day. Pulling out her personal phone, she found Sam’s number and debated calling him. After arguing with herself, she reasoned that it isn’t probable that they would be around. Last she had heard from them, a few days ago, they were on their way to Colorado.

So, wendigo. According to her father’s book, they were once human turned after committing an act of cannibalism. They feed a few times a year, collecting for the winter. The only known way to kill them is fire. Closing the book, she leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. She wondered if her father left her a blowtorch in the trunk, she laughed at the thought but it was highly possible. Closing her eyes, she breathed in. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

It was raining and slightly foggy, not ideal weather. Shuffling through her trunk, she was not surprised to find a makeshift flamethrower. The more Betty worked to find her parents, the more she realized that she didn’t even know who they were. Yeah, her father was an author, but she thought he was simply writing of fiction not fact. And her mother had been an accountant, Betty assumed that she probably hadn’t the slightest clue of the monsters walking this earth before her death. 

Shutting the trunk with a sigh, she made her way to the scene. She stopped, seeing two people, a man and a woman, standing at the scene. The man held a shotgun, and the woman held a flamethrower. They were looking at the trees, moving branches, revealing more of Anasazi symbols, all of them defaced in some way. Betty contemplated on what she should do, they were clearly hunters and clearly the ‘FBI agents’ that bothered the rangers. Shaking off her doubt, she stepped forward with her hands raised and the flamethrower slung across her back. Maybe they could help each other. 

“Hello,” the man turned, he poked at the woman beside him causing her to turn around. “I’m Betty Rivera, a hunter like you guys.” Both raised an eyebrow at her, she offered a sincere smile. “I take it you’re also hunting the wendigo, right?” The man narrowed his eyes at her, he poked the woman once again and placed his shotgun under his armpit. Betty watched him move his hands, sign language. The woman signed back, a look of pleading in her eyes. The man let out a huff before turning back to the brunette.

“I’m Henry Spencer.” He introduced himself, grabbing the shotgun again. “This is Eileen Leahy,” he motioned his elbow to her, she smiled at Betty with a small wave. “My partner.” The brunette could see the way Henry looked at Eileen, it reminded her of the way her father would look at her mother. She gave them a soft smile, lowering her arms. 

“Nice to meet you,” Eileen offered, Betty was conflicted on how to answer. She didn’t know any sign language and it seemed pretty obvious that she had never met a deaf person before. Eileen noticed Betty’s mouth opening and closing, she laughed quietly. “I can read lips, don’t worry about not knowing how to sign.” The brunette felt the tension lift from her shoulders, Eileen turned to Henry. “Anyway, we have a wendigo to catch.” 

The rain was a light drizzle and the sky was dark, Betty pulled the hood of her raincoat over her head. They had been walking around for a few hours now, following a trail of Anasazi symbols. Henry and Eileen walked in front of her, signing to each other every once in a while. The brunette glanced around the damp forest, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, being followed. Clutching the flamethrower, she turned to look behind her. It was uncomfortably empty, not an animal in sight.

“Help!” Henry and Betty snapped their heads in the direction of the scream. The man stopped Eileen by resting a hand on her shoulder, turning her to where the sound had come from. He signed something to her before cocking his shotgun. He looked to Betty and motioned his head to the sound, the brunette nodded in response. Entering the heavily forested area, she lost sight of the other two and felt a pit form in her stomach. 

She finally saw the other two when they neared a circular clearing. It looked as if the entire area had been leveled, the remains of trees making it clear that something had ripped them out of the ground. Betty’s head tilted when she spotted something in one of the holes, squatting down, she pulled a bloody shoe from it. Standing up, she showed it to the other two and motioned to drag marks leading into more forest. 

“Maybe it fell off while struggling.” She hoped, letting the shoe fall back to the ground. Eileen looked at the shoe, sighing, she looked back to Betty.

“Wendigos collect for winter,” she began, gripping her flamethrower tighter. “So he’s got to be alive.” Her voice cracked as tears pricked at her eyes, Henry put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Betty nodded, agreeing not to let hope go. The sound of branches snapping made them turn in the direction of the drag marks.

“Hide.” Henry whispered, grabbing onto Eileen, he ducked behind a tree. Betty quickly dove behind a large rock, clutching the flamethrower to her chest. The sound of leaves rustling made Betty hold her breath.

“Help!” Her heart dropped at the voice, it had been the same one that had called them earlier. Leaning, she snuck a peek over the side of the rock. Brown eyes widened seeing something emerge from the forest.

It was tall, about 9 feet. Hairless and pale, it stalked out of the forest. It appeared to be sniffing the air, looking for more prey. Betty could see it near the tree Eileen and Henry were hiding behind. Ducking back behind the rock, she worked up the courage to just jump out and aim the weapon at the monster. Her train of thought was interrupted by the ring of her phone, she closed her eyes, slightly embarrassed by the rookie mistake she just committed. Scrambling, she pulled her phone out, seeing Sam’s name on the caller ID. Before she could turn it off, a growl from beside her made her freeze. The wendigo roared at her when she turned to look at it, she shot up, dropping her phone in the process.

“Eileen! Henry!” She called out, her eyes met Henry's. Pleading for help, but he turned away, pushing Eileen deeper into the woods with him. A feeling of utter betrayal erupted in the pit of her stomach. Pointing the flamethrower at the monster, she pulled the trigger and flames shot out. The wendigo screamed in pain before swatting at the brunette's weapon, causing it to fling back around to her back and making her fall backwards. It scratched at her face, she brought her arms up to defend herself only for her coat to be scratched through. “Help me!” The wendigo picked her up before slamming her back into the ground. She fought to stay conscious, but her eyes closed and her body fell limp. 

Blinking awake, the brunette found herself tied up in a cave. She was laid on the cold stone ground, free of the scratches and blood she had acquired earlier but dirty with dried mud. She was facing a cave wall, a smell told her that she did not want to turn around but she attempted to anyway. Turning herself, she found the flamethrower in front of her as well as the bodies of four people. All of them seemed to be dead, all except Luke Dwyer, whose chest Betty could see rising and falling as he breathed. Struggling against her restraints, she brought the rope up to her mouth and bit at the rope. Why the hell were wendigos so freaking smart? Did whatever messed up God was out there feel that they weren’t suffering enough? 

“Hello?” Her eyes met those of Luke, his eyes were red and cloudy with tears. With one last tug of her teeth, the rope came loose. She quickly untied her legs and ran to Luke’s side. “Who are you?” Betty shushed him, scared that the wendigo might be nearby. “Your face,” he began as she worked through his restraints. “You were all messed up and bloody, but you’re okay now. How?” She paused before continuing to untie his ankles, not knowing how to answer. 

“Can you walk?” He shook his head, motioning to his broken left leg. Grabbing onto his left arm, she flung it over her shoulder and slowly raised him up.

“What about the flamethrower?” Luke asked, leaning onto the brunette. Betty glanced at the weapon, its fuel tank empty due to a scratch caused by the wendigo. Turning to the boy, she shook her head and pulled two silver knives from her pant pocket.

“Silver,” she began, handing one to him which he grabbed with his right arm. “One of the only things that can harm them.” He nodded in understanding and gripped the blade tighter. “We have to be as quiet as possible.” 

The cave they had woken up in was just a pocket in a large cave system, Betty cursed her luck before noticing something. A stream of water came running down from one of the tunnels in front of them, the rain. She led Luke through the tunnels, following the stream. Her chest lightened when she spotted the pouring rain through the cave entrance. 

“We’re free.” Luke breathed, a little too soon. A roar came from the forest in front of them. The wendigo came stumbling out, standing in front of them. Betty felt her heart jump to her throat, afraid that she would actually wind up dead this time. The wendigo took a few more steps toward them, causing Betty to gently push Luke behind her in a protective manner. The creature stopped before falling face first into the mud. The two stood there, staring at the unmoving creature. The brunette noted bullet holes and a silver knife in the monster's back.

“Betty!” Her eyes shot back up, seeing Eileen and Henry walking out of the trees. The woman ran to her, grabbing onto her arm and checking her face. “Are you alright?” Her brown eyes reminded the brunette of her mother, and she allowed herself to cry. Using her free arm, Betty pulled Eileen into a hug, letting her tears fall onto the other woman’s leather jacket as the rain dampened her skin and hair.

They watched as Henry set the wendigo’s body on fire. Betty had insisted they build a pyre for it as it had once been human, but the man ignored her thoughts and coated the monster in fuel. Her eyes followed him, confusion behind them and slight hatred. The brunette stood beside Eileen and Luke, turning to the woman, she lightly pushed her with her elbow to get her attention.

“How did you find us?” She asked when Eileen could see her lips.

“When the wendigo scratched at you, it cut open the fuel tank of your flamethrower,” she began turning back to the fire. “We followed the fuel, met the monster halfway and it led us back to you.” Betty’s eyebrows furrowed, she wondered why Henry had left her to, essentially, die. For all he could've known, the Wendigo could've just left her for dead instead of leading them to its lair. But then again, it's easier to risk the life of a stranger.

“Ow, God.” Betty looked down to Luke, who was sitting against a tree. His hands held onto his leg, very clearly in pain. The brunette kneeled down beside him, her hands settled on his leg. “What’re you doing?” He questioned, she met his eyes.

“Healing you.” Closing her eyes, Luke gave her a strange look. This strange look was interrupted by the bluish white light the shone from her hands, it sunk into his leg, illuminating it before dissipating. Blood came seeping out of her nose, shooting her hand up, she stopped it before Luke could notice. “Should be good as new.” She helped him stand, and he gave her a look of amazement and gratitude. 

“Thank you.”

The brunette waved, watching Eileen and Hank leave in their car, Liam in the back seat as they headed to the city. Entering her car, she pulled out her phone, which she had recovered on the walk back to her car. Flipping it open, she found one voicemail from Sam waiting for her. She played it, holding the phone close to her right ear as she rubbed her face with the other. 

“Betty!” The desperation in his voice made her sit up. She could hear that he was in a car, going fast. “Listen, uh, Dean and I found our Dad. We need your help.” A groan came from the background. “Dean, don’t move.” He was breathless and scared. “Please, Betty you’re the only one who can help us.” Tears came to her eyes, she could hardly stand to hear Sam like this. He was always somewhat carefree when they talked, yet now he was talking as if the world was ending. “Listen, I'm heading to a hospital in-” the sound of a car colliding into their own made the brunette's heart stop. The call cut off. Through blurred vision, she navigated to Sam’s number, attempting to call.

“Pick up, pick up.” Her head rested on the steering wheel as her thumb made her ring spin on her right ring finger. “Please be okay.” In response to Sam’s voicemail, she let out a choked sob and let her head hit the steering wheel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter lines up with the end of season 1, the next chapter taking place in season 2 of Supernatural. Thank you so much for reading thus far!


	7. Update: Rewrite

I will be rewriting the story under the same name.

The rewrite is happening due to plot changes that do not fit with the current chapters.

This version of the first few chapters will stay up until I am caught up with the rewrites, it will then be deleted.

Thank you for reading and I hope you all read the new version as well!

Updates will begin this Friday January, 1st.


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